


A Weekend in the Country

by StrictlyFromCorn (orphan_account)



Series: Fred Astaire x Ginger Rogers [16]
Category: 20th Century CE RPF, American Actor RPF, Astaire/Rogers RPF, Fred Astaire/Ginger Rogers Movies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-10
Updated: 2014-05-10
Packaged: 2018-01-24 04:40:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1591976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/StrictlyFromCorn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once again, in 1930, New York. Fred and Ginger are an item - and so are their best friends, George and Kay. The girls decide to drag the boys out to Kay's countryside ranch for the weekend, and there's a little resistance at first, but the guys finally give in. Romance, kisses, laughter, and a lot of hay and mud follow for the two couples.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Weekend in the Country

**Author's Note:**

> I know, you're probably thinking, "oh my goodness just update Dancing in the Dark already!" And I promise I will! I've been getting so many messages lately! :) I took about a month or so to write this story, which is supposed to be a oneshot but dear god the word count... anyway. I started writing it in classes I got bored in, and it just grew and grew and grew from there! So, after this, Dancing in the Dark. Promise. And please enjoy this, too! :)  
> I loved writing George Gershwin and Kay Swift together. I wish those two had gotten married too - I think they were a gorgeous couple. (And I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I've fallen for George like a ton of bricks.)

“And there they go again - drinking and acting like five-year-olds.” Ginger’s comment was laden with both sarcasm and immense love for the two men standing by the piano. On the left was Fred, that unbelievably _skinny_ tap dancer. He was such a dope, intoxicated or not, but she loved him and his funny face. Ginger had found out he was a pretty good kisser, too - and they kept it up almost all the time because it was so enjoyable. And then there was George, the blindingly handsome one on the right, playing a few chords on the piano. He was the biggest showoff Ginger had ever seen in her entire life - but there was something about him that just made _everyone_ like him.

Everyone, except the jilted husbands and boyfriends of girls he had charmed, of course.

“George is so drunk he can’t even play the melody correctly.” Kay was trying her best not to burst out laughing at her boyfriend’s inability to play his own compositions properly. Being a composer herself, she was able to understand the innate workings of George’s music. They were perfect for each other in so many ways - when it came to music, George would get a new notebook, and he would start making notes on one end. Then, Kay would work her way from the other end, and they’d meet in the middle.

Their relationship was extremely special - and Kay was, without a doubt, the helpmate who finished George’s musical thoughts. It was one thing to find another person who was passionate about the same things, and another to find a soulmate, but when those two were combined into one - to say the least, things were simply _perfect_. George and Kay were a living representation of that.

“Hey, George! Play… play Fascinatin’ Rhythm!” The two ladies looked up from the dining table at George’s house to see Fred raising his glass and swishing the whiskey in it wildly. “I sang that a couple of years ago, with Dellie, remember?” Of course anyone would remember - the song had taken all of New York and England by storm because it was so catchy.

“Oh, boy, here we go again.” Ginger’s tone was filled with amusement as she tried to hold back her giggles. Watching the two of them make absolute fools out of themselves was a feeling she enjoyed more than she honestly should.

“You got it, Freddie!” George started playing the song he had composed, but it was in a completely different key in which it was originally written. Neither of them appeared to notice the discrepancy, though, and Fred started to sing in a voice that was both slurred and slightly off-key.

“Ginger, where’s the camera? Oh, we’ve _got_ to film this!” Kay burst out all of a sudden as she stood up from her seat. George was a photographer of sorts - and he often left his camera lying around. “Here it is!” After a few seconds of searching, she spotted it on the bar counter. "I love ya, Georgie, and Freddie." The composer commented under her breath, barely restraining her laughter as she started to wind up the camera.

“Oh, my goodness, Kay.” Ginger’s amusement was increased by the fact that George and Fred were simply oblivious to what was going on. With that video, they’d be able to convince the two of them to do anything at all.

“Thank God for celluloid, that’s all I can say.” Kay responded as she watched the two of them continue to mess up the song. Everything from the pitch to the tempo to the melody went out the window - honestly, it sounded like a bunch of caterwauling cats. “You know what I’ve been thinking would be nice, Ginge?”

“Yeah?” The dancer covered her mouth, trying hard not to laugh at the way Fred had nearly stumbled over nothing at all. Oh, right, the _coordinated_ Astaire.

“A weekend in the country. My aunt’s got a cottage in the countryside in Connecticut, and it’s a couple hours’ drive. It’ll be nice to relax, don’t you think? You and Fred have been dancing all week long, and George has been working nonstop on the latest show. He’s such a city boy - he won’t entertain the idea of the country, but… with the threat of this video, he’ll do anything.” From her looks, Kay appeared rather innocent, but she had her ways of getting things done, too. All in good fun, of course.

“We’ll give the boys a ribbing this weekend that neither of them will forget.” Ginger finally declared. Fred never listened to her either, but this would be the perfect chance. Anyway, she was kind of homesick for Texas, and the closest thing she’d get was a trip to the countryside. With that, the two ladies exchanged a handshake, determined to mercilessly tease both Fred and George.

“... _Fascinatin’ rhythm, you’ve got to stop picking on me!_ ” They looked up just in time to see the boys finish the song, having completely butchered it. Drunk or not, they weren’t gonna have any idea what was in store for them the next day.

 

* * *

 

“George, this thought just occurred to me.” The young brunette in the back seat of the car asked all of a sudden. “We all know that you’re a marvelous composer - but can you _sing_ your compositions as well as you can play them?” The question caused the others in the car to laugh at its unexpectedness, although they genuinely were curious. The girls had managed to drag the boys along with them without much difficulty - the threat of them showing the video to others was enough to convince them to do as the girls wanted.

“Me? Sing?” George looked over his shoulder to face his girlfriend. “Don’t be absurd, Kay. We all know Fred and Ginger over here are the singers - and the dancers. We just compose the music, they perform it.” It was the composer’s way of trying to get himself out of that rather tricky situation. What prompted her to ask if he could _sing_? Well - he couldn’t, and he knew it. Except, he was too drunk to remember what had happened the night before.

“Aw, now, George, I’ve heard ya. At rehearsals.” Fred interrupted, not willing to let his friend off the hook so easily. “Just ‘cause you’re a composer doesn’t mean you can’t dance, either. We’ve all seen you show off at rehearsals, and at parties.” The dancer added quickly with a sideways glance at Ginger, _his_ girlfriend. “Not to mention the one time you stole Ginger from me for a twirl.”

“You’re a swell dancer, George.” Ginger joined in with a spirited laugh. “It really isn’t that hard to sing, either, you know.” As she spoke, she placed one hand on Fred’s shoulder and pressed closer, smushing their faces together.

“Say, what is this, anyway? Did you all make an agreement beforehand to start ribbing me like this?” George burst out, although he had to keep an eye on the road ahead. “I _can’t_ sing.” He replied insistently, hoping that they would just drop the topic for his sake.

“Even if we did, it makes no difference. Don’t be a spoilsport, George.” Kay continued to tease her boyfriend. “How about you sing the title song of _Oh, Kay!_ , just for me, huh?” She both loved and hated the fact that George had gone and named the titular character after her in that play. It was sweet of him - but he had also named the male character “Jimmy”, after her husband. Kay always thought she had loved Jimmy, boring as he was, being a banker. In fact, they even had two daughters together.

Everything changed, though, at a dinner party in 1925. That was when she had seen George for the first time - fresh off his composing victory of Rhapsody in Blue. From the first instant, he had appealed to Kay. He was cocky, brash, but charismatic and self-assured - and without a doubt, both talented _and_ handsome. George was so different from the stuffy, stuck-up Jimmy. Anyway, in the play, George had made no secret what he thought of Jimmy. Perhaps it wasn't the nicest thing to do, but Kay knew that he was assuredly not the type to hold back on his feelings.

“You know what? I’ll even start for you.” Fred figured that as long as they were teasing George, they’d lay off of him, and that was a good thing. “Here goes.” With that, he cleared his throat and started to sing. “ _You have a charm that’s all your own - makes ‘em all stare! You have a style that you can call your own; lady, you are there!_ ”

“ _I can’t see what you see in me - it must be rare. But I’d like to hear a little more; speak right up, boys, you can have the floor!_ ” As Kay finished her line, she elbowed her boyfriend again in an attempt to get him to sing the next verse along with Fred. George resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he gave in and started to sing along.

“ _Oh, Kay! You’re O.K. with me! You’re a dear! Oh, Kay! You’re O.K. with me!_ ” The boys’ singing put grins on the girls’ faces, especially considering that George was a lot better than they expected him to be. Considering the drunk fiasco the night before, this performance was remarkable.

The four performers continued in that fashion as they drove down the nearly-empty road in the red convertible that George owned. Honestly, their singing was _way_ below the standards they had set during their Broadway shows, but that didn’t matter to any of them. They were having plenty of fun - and that was what counted.

 

* * *

 

They reached the cottage at around noon. _Cottage_ was an understatement, actually. None of them had been expecting the sprawling three acres of farmland, with the quintessential big red barn in the back, a windmill, and even a stream that ran down to the nearby river. As George drove the yellow convertible down the dirt road, the group saw a flock of sheep grazing nearby, and a couple of cows, too.

“Kay, you said a trip to your aunt’s cottage - this is more like a _ranch_!” Ginger remarked as she sat up taller, trying to get a better look at the scenery around them. It was hard to imagine that such rustic areas were only an hour’s drive away from the hustle and bustle of New York City. “It feels like I’m in some rich man’s ranch in Nebraska - like in the old West, or something.” She added, casting a quick glance at Fred, because of the reference to his home state. Like George, he was a city boy through and through - sure, he’d been born in Omaha, but his heart lay in New York. In response, he shook his head at his girlfriend, a small smile on his face. The two of them loved to say and do things to provoke reactions from the other.

“It’s been so long since I was here.” As they passed a great oak, Kay couldn’t help but grin at the childhood memories associated with it. “See that swing hanging from the tree? I used to play there all evening long.” There were also several carvings in the tree, and a half-dismantled treehouse of sorts in the branches up high. “Oh, it’s going to be so much fun, isn’t it? The four of us, here, together…”

George smiled at Kay’s enthusiasm, and at the same time, Fred and Ginger exchanged a mischievous glance. “I’ve got so many plans for all of us - and George, darling, I’m going to teach you horseback riding. It’s about time you learned, too - remember how gentlemen of old would go riding every day? C’mon, even Fred knows how to mount a horse!” How good Fred was at riding was debatable - but anyway, he took the compliment, and willed Ginger not to make any remarks about his abilities as well. Instead, she shook her head at her boyfriend, an amused expression on her features.

“Well, Fred likes horse racing.” George rushed to defend himself. “And besides, I’m a better tennis player.” So there was his excuse for not knowing how. The composer _loved_ tennis, perhaps as much as Fred loved horse racing and golf. And he was pretty good at it, too. “On one last note, riding clothes make you look ridiculous.”

“That isn’t going to help much around here, George. I don’t see any tennis courts.” Fred responded wryly. “Just go along with Kay, all right? If there’s one thing we’ve both learned, it’s that the gals are always right. _Always_.” Ginger nodded appreciatively at his words, as did Kay.

“And to top all of it off, Freddie’s got a great deal more sense.” But then again, if he thought that supporting their words was going to help him escape from that ribbing they had planned, then he had another think coming.

 

* * *

 

Within an hour, the group had mostly unpacked and explored the two-storey house. The walls were covered with a dark wood paneling, and so were the floors. In some ways, it felt like an Alpine lodge. There was a spiral staircase in the living room that led upstairs, and then, there was an attic, which was accessed with a wooden ladder. The country-styled, sprawling kitchen with marble counters was located in the back, and the dining table could seat eight. The visitors had assembled in the sitting room - separate from the living room. It was closer to the bedrooms than the living room was.

Fred had taken the biggest armchair, and it was almost comical how his skinny frame contrasted with the huge plaid chair. Even then, he found it quite comfortable. Ginger laid down on the couch, which had room for three people. The couple wondered where George and Kay both were, but those thoughts were soon put to rest when the latter entered, a huge smile on her face. “Fred, Ginger, you two aren’t going to believe what I just convinced George to do.”

“What?” They both nearly leaped out of their seats because of Kay’s infectious enthusiasm.

“I found him some riding clothes.” She couldn’t stop grinning. Just a while ago, George wouldn’t even entertain the idea of horseback riding, and now, he was changing. It just went to show Kay’s powers of persuasion - and they all knew that George would listen to his girlfriend in practically all matters. They loved and trusted each other that much.

“Are you serious?” Ginger burst out, trying to restrain her giggles. So far, the two of them had been doing excellently.

“Kay, I honestly look like a country bumpkin!” Before either of them could say anything, they heard George as he knocked on the door to the sitting room, almost embarrassed to come in. “Why do I need to wear riding clothes anyway? It’s not like the horse’s gonna notice!”

“Stop complaining, Georgie, and come in.” Kay answered, curious as to how he would appear in riding clothes.

“How do I look?” When George emerged from the room, he was dressed completely differently from before. Instead of the normal, well-tailored suit, he was wearing riding clothes. Namely, a beige pullover sweater with a black necktie (much as Kay had tried, she couldn’t get him to let go of the quintessential tie), white riding pants, and black knee-high boots. George was a city boy in every sense of the word, but he managed to pull off the riding clothes look very well, too.

“Swell, George, swell. In no time at all, we’ll have you wearing cowboy clothes and running a ranch.” Fred leaned back in his chair, observing his friend’s new style with a great degree of amusement. “Kay, you’ve done a great job.”

“What about you, Freddie? Don’t you think running a ranch with me would be a… romantic prospect?” Ginger asked on purpose, laughing out loud at the blush that immediately overcame him.

“Come on, George, I’ve got to teach you how to mount a horse - and ride it, _without_ falling off.” Kay could only think of how handsome he looked in that attire as she took her boyfriend by the arm. “Sorry to leave you two alone like this.” She remarked to Fred and Ginger, who were still sitting in the wicker chairs.

“Well, I’m not sorry.” Fred interrupted, exchanging a quick glance with his girlfriend. He noted the fact that her gaze went straight to his lips, and he had to stop himself from laughing. “I mean, sure, we’ll be all right. You’ve got to take care of George, all right? We’ve got to have him back in one piece in order to play the piano on Monday.” The dancer had all sorts of plans with Ginger for that day, and it was undeniably nice to have some peace and solidarity for themselves. They never got such quiet time in the bustling city.

“You’re all acting as if I were some piece of fine china.” George protested the notion that he was going to be terrible at the task ahead of him. “I’ll go horseriding and come back _just fine_.”

“Horse _back_ riding, dear.” Kay corrected him quickly. “You do realize that you’re riding on its’ back, don’t you?” Despite her words, a warm smile remained on her face, and her blue eyes sparkled with amusement.

“Grammatical issues aside.” George waved a hand, trying to take the attention off of his English skills. “We’ll be all right.” Silently, he added, _as long as we’re together_. He didn’t need to say it out loud, though - Kay knew instinctively what he was going to say. He was a composer, not a lyricist, but that didn’t mean that he was unaware how to declare his love.

“Oh, and don’t feel obligated to prepare dinner. We’ll figure something out.” Kay added on an ending note as the two of them left the sitting room. The point was for them to enjoy themselves, and she knew for a solid fact that Fred could _not_ cook. (Besides that chicken soup which he had all the time, and Kay assuredly did not want any of that.)

“Right.” And with that, George shut the door behind them. “Now, Freddie… what were you _not_ so sorry about earlier on?” Ginger asked with a flirtatious smile as she leaned back in the sofa. “Tell me, honestly, you haven’t been on a farm before, have you?”

“No.” Fred took a minute to think about it. He’d been on tour when he was in vaudeville as a little kid, but he didn’t remember any farms, and after all, it had been so long that it probably didn’t count. “I wasn’t sorry about being left alone with you.” The dancer couldn’t stop the impish grin on his face as he glanced at Ginger’s lips again.

“I’m not so sorry, either.” She responded as she bit her lip, feeling like she had butterflies in her stomach. Being around Fred had that effect on her, too. “Well, I’m gonna teach you some farm chores. We’ll start with shoveling hay.” With that, the dancer stood up from her seat, trying not to laugh at Fred’s startled expression. “Don’t look at me like a stunned deer! C’mon, Freddie!” Ginger grabbed him by the hand and started to lead them to the stables, ignoring his protests of “we were here to relax!” and “Kay told us to take it easy!”.

 

* * *

 

The barn was right next to the cottage, and the floor was carpeted with hay. George and Kay had taken the two horses with them, thus leaving the place empty, and thankfully, it looked like there wasn’t any manure around. “It smells wonderful in here, doesn’t it?” Ginger piped up with a grin as she rolled up her denim pants to her knees and retrieved two pairs of rubber boots from nearby. “I think you’d like to put these on, Fred.”

“Ginge, for the love of God, I’m gonna get my Brooks suit all dirty.” Frankly, Fred hadn’t imagined that he would be standing with a pitchfork and a stable full of hay. He had rolled up his black pants to his knees and taken off his jacket and tie, but he was certain that that suit was going to be out of commission. With a sigh, Fred took the boots from his girlfriend and pulled them on carelessly, trying not to wrinkle his nose because of the strong smell of the hay. Sure, Ginger thought it smelled sweet - but he thought it was headache-inducing.

“Don’t be such a city boy.” She found his flustered reaction more than amusing. “Okay, so this is how you use the pitchfork.” The dancer was waiting for her boyfriend to make some clever comment about pitchforks, but none came - he was too busy holding his nose. “It’s quite easy, if you just watch me.” With that, Ginger started to shovel some hay to the side, watching Fred closely with a grin.

“Really, Ginge, really? I’m a _hoofer_.” Fred thought that it would justify his position and thus free him from having to shovel hay, but he was wrong again. When Ginger didn’t acknowledge his comment, he resigned himself to the task and started to follow suit. She kept glancing at him, and her attempts to stop her giggles were only half successful. Finally, the dancer stopped and stared at his girlfriend. “What in the _world_ is so damn funny?”

“For instance,” She took the opportunity to point out everything that Fred was doing incorrectly - with love, of course. “Your boots… are untied. Uh, and you’re holding the pitchfork wrong. And best of all - Freddie, I hope you don’t mind but, well… you look rather ridiculous.” Ginger covered her mouth at his aghast reaction, finding that her stomach was starting to hurt from laughing so hard.

“Oh, is _that_ so?” Fred threw the pitchfork to the side, completely done with the hay. He placed both his hands on his hips, trying to show his indignance, although he quickly realized that his hands were stained with mud, and it had rubbed off on his white shirt. “Oh, shoot…” He looked down at his dirtied outfit momentarily; seeing the chance, his girlfriend threw her pitchfork down and ran.

“Catch me if you can!” Ginger taunted as she navigated between the stacks of hay in the stable, unable to contain her giggles. It reminded her of her childhood - when she used to play tag with the other kids. And, being the fastest, she always won.

“You did it, now!” Fred called after her as he took off, trying to figure out a way to corner her. She kept weaving in-between the piles of hay - a smart strategy, he had to admit. It turned into a playful game of hide-and-seek as each of the dancers tried to hide behind the hay. And then, out of nowhere, Ginger dashed past him in a blur, laughing all the way as she ran.

“You’ll never get me!” She added, although her statement seemed to have been misplaced. Within a flash, Fred was behind her - he put down his sprinting abilities to having hung around with George so long. (Of course, everyone knew that George was _the_ track and field star, among other talents.) He reached out and grabbed Ginger by the shoulders, causing her to scream as she tripped and fell face-first into the hay.

Fred went down with his girlfriend, too, almost landing on top of her. Ginger was breathless with laughter as she turned over to face him, her cheeks a bright red as she tried to get herself under control, although it didn’t seem to be working. The dancer found himself spitting out bits of hay; he wasn’t a fan of the taste, but he couldn’t deny the fact that he was enjoying himself. “Oh, God, Ginge…” Fred murmured in-between trying to get his breath back.

“Do you… do you mind, Freddie?” Ginger was referring to the fact that he had her pinned against the ground. As far as she was concerned, _she_ didn’t mind in the least.

“Well, as a matter of fact,” The dancer replied, realizing for the first time that he was so close to his girlfriend that her breath stirred his hair. The intimacy, although nothing new to Fred, still made him feel giddy. All that running hadn’t affected him much - but now that he was practically on top of Ginger, he found himself turning into a ball of anticipation and affection. “Yes. Yes, I _do_ mind getting up.” The smile on her face in response told Fred all that he needed to. He brushed her messy hair out of her face as he leaned in for a kiss.

It was a strange thing. All along, Fred had found that doing the same thing over and _over_ again simply took the enjoyment out of the task, but it definitely wasn’t that way when he kissed Ginger. He always felt like he wanted more - almost like drinking salt water. Except it was a lot more pleasant, of course. The kiss heightened his senses, and the first thing that he realized was how soft her lips were. Every time they kissed, Ginger’s lipstick ended up smeared all over his face, but Fred honestly didn’t mind looking like a fool.

Simply because kissing her was the best experience he could ask for.

The warmth of her body against his was more comforting than he could describe, and he wrapped his arms around her, trying to get her even closer to himself. Fred wanted to keep her that way forever - and for the two of them to stay together, for always. They broke apart for a moment to catch their breaths, although the magic of the moment wasn’t lost one bit. Ginger felt like she could lose herself in that intense hazel gaze, with so many hues of blue, brown, and even green. And his lips felt _so good_ against hers - the warm pressure and the tenderness of it all. Fred knew what to do every single time, and she always trusted herself to his smoothness.

Part of him realized that he didn’t mind the smell of the hay any more - as a matter of fact, the atmosphere of the barn had lent something special to the kiss. The crisp and fresh country air was so different from the stuffy apartments that Fred and Ginger had heretofore been sharing kisses in. It was a change he welcomed.

The break proved to be too much for each of them to stand - and as such, the lovers quickly resumed their kiss. Instead of going for her lips this time, though, he turned to kiss her on side of her neck, having suddenly remembered the fact that she liked those kinds of smooches so much. It was what they had done the first night in the back of his car, and just about every time that they had kissed. A feeling of immense satisfaction washed over Fred as he heard her sigh in contentment.

Ginger’s first marriage had been a failure, but her feelings for her former husband, even when they had tied the knot, were nothing compared to her level of affection for Fred. And the two of them knew that. The dancer had never known such intense feelings in his life, and in that instant, he hit upon the realization that she _completed_ him. Fred didn’t know how he had made it so far without her - but now that he had found his soulmate, he knew for a fact that he wasn’t going to let go.

Life with Ginger was _sheer heaven_ ; life without her was unthinkable.

“Things always seem to… escalate between us, don’t they?” He murmured breathlessly as he traced his hand lightly over her collarbone. Ginger was the only girl with whom a playful game of tag could turn into an intense makeout session within a matter of minutes. Fred always found that he couldn’t control himself around her - he had no desire, nor reason to keep his hands off of her. And the feeling was mutual.

“They escalate… because we love each other. I love you, Fred. I _love_ you.” She whispered back in response, with one hand on his cheek, and the other gripping Fred’s free hand tightly.

“You’re saying it like you’re a lawyer in a court case trying to convince me.” He responded playfully, a small smile coming over his features as he saw Ginger’s expression of surprise. “I love you too, Ginge. For always.” Lots of guys would have gone on with declarations of love for the rest of eternity and flowery promises, but the dancer stopped short. He didn’t need to say those things, simply because he knew she already was aware of his sincerity.

“Always.” She agreed with a smile as he leaned in for yet another kiss.

 

* * *

 

“What am I supposed to do if the horse throws me?” That was the one question that George had been asking incessantly, simply because he’d heard plenty of tales of broken bones and other injuries in horseback riding. Kay assured him that the only way for the horse to throw him was if he kicked it hard - but he was still worried.

“George, I swear, the horse isn’t going to throw you, but _I_ will, in a moment, if you don’t stop fussing about it.” Kay commented drily, having listened to her boyfriend ask the same old thing over, and over, and _over_ again. Honestly, she didn’t know what was worse - that, or a broken record. “Darling, I told you not to be afraid. You’ll be fine.” She added, guiding her horse to turn so that they could go down to the river for a little while.

“I wasn’t even this scared when I had to improvise at the premiere of Rhapsody in Blue.” George admitted as he followed after Kay, trying his best to remember how to pull the rein for left and right to turn the horse. He had already given the brown horse a name - Denny. And the first thing he had said was, “Take it easy, Denny.” So far, the steed seemed to have been doing just that, patiently putting up with the composer’s knee-jerk commands.

“Gosh, it’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” Kay commented with a grin as she observed the scenery, not having realized how much she missed the countryside. “Tell me, George, you don’t get this kind of peace and quiet in Brooklyn, do you?” She wanted him to admit that she was right, since it didn’t happen very often. Oh, George had a hell of an ego - she’d realized that from the moment she first spoke to him. And getting him to admit defeat was something the composer had wanted for a long time.

“No. But what if I don’t like peace and quiet?” George responded evasively, seeing through Kay’s strategy. He wasn’t going to say it - not if there was a way for him not to. But it wasn’t the smartest of all his choices, considering that he was in the countryside, riding a horse, and the only one who could bail him out was his girlfriend.

“That’s a lie. You complained to no end when people around us wouldn’t shut up when you were trying to write your Concerto in F. Then you sent telegrams to me from Europe claiming “Hungarian people are very noisy”. Oh, George, of all the things in the world for you to say.” Kay cut down his argument within an instant, grinning as she did so. “Just go on and say it. I was right.”

“...No, but what about the riding clothes?” George still thought he looked pretty silly in them, especially those baggy pants. “And Europe actually inspired me to write lots of music. This sorta countryside isn’t… inspiring at all.” He would never go down without valiantly defending himself.

“You’re impossible, George.” Kay shook her head at him, an amused smile still on her face. “If it’s worth anything - I think you look splendid in those riding clothes.” She knew about his philandering with other girls, but frankly, she didn’t mind. Why? Because he always left them after three or four days - but George had stuck with her for five years. And because they were both convinced that they were in _love_. The real thing. Kay knew that George probably got told that he was good-looking _all the time_ , but she was also aware of the fact that he took her comments seriously - and a compliment from her made him smile like a schoolboy.

“You really think so?” The way his face lit up with happiness made Kay smile even wider. “Maybe it isn’t so bad after all. Maybe I _was_ being a little over-dramatic back at the ranch.” George admitted with a sweep of his hand, nearly forgetting his nervousness about riding the horse.

“A _little_?” Kay repeated for emphasis, amused by how far he would go to assert that he was right. Still, the composer decided to let it go at that as she steered the horse down the dirt path that she had ridden so many times in her childhood. “ _Come on_ , George, I thought you’re the one who always goes _fast_! Especially when you play the piano! Why are you so slow today?” She turned around to see her boyfriend a good fifty feet behind her, still clinging onto the horse for dear life.

“I don’t want to fall off!” George shouted in response, causing his girlfriend to shake her head in exasperation. “I’m being serious over here!” He added, trying to defend his statement. The composer had realized how ill at ease he was on horseback, and again started to regret the decision to come along. But with that video, what else could he do?

“Here, I’ll make a bet for something serious!” Kay stopped the horse as an idea popped into her head. “I’ll race you down to the river! It’s only about 600 yards from here!” She knew for a fact that George wasn’t going to win that race. He’d just protest for the next 600 yards, but she didn’t care. “And whoever loses gets to admit the other is right, no matter what, for the rest of the trip! Ready?” The composer called, tugging on the reins as she braced herself.

“That’s not fair! You know I can’t ride a horse!” George shouted back, trying to catch up with Kay before she bolted off. “You never informed me that this was a competition!”

“George, darling, just _what_ do you suppose you’re doing now? You’re _riding a horse_.” Her response was short, but it killed any further argument from him. “All right, on your mark, get set… _go_!” With those words, Kay was off in a flash as her horse galloped as fast as it could. The good thing about the road that they were taking was the fact that it was only sparsely lined with trees - it was easy to see anyone coming up that dirt path.

“Oh, my _God_.” George muttered under his breath as he desperately tried to remember how to make the horse run. Kay had taught him some basic commands earlier, but he had forgotten all of them in an instant. “Uh, _gallop_ , Denny, _gallop_! Go, go, go!” He raised his voice, hoping that that would do something for him.

Miraculously, it did.

She had neglected to mention that the horses had been voice trained - meaning that they responded to commands by voice as well as reins. Honestly, at the speed he was going, Denny could’ve been in the Kentucky Derby - or at least, it seemed that way to George. “Go, go, _go_!” The speed was breathtaking as he tried his best not to think about what would happen if he fell off at that time. The only thing he concentrated on was the way the cold wind blew in his face and stirred his hair. And before he knew it, he was almost next to Kay.

“So I see you’re doing alright yourself!” She called out as her boyfriend’s horse started to gain ground on hers. “But I’m still gonna win!” Kay honestly had no idea how George had gotten Denny to run that fast - but that didn’t really matter to her at that moment. All Kay wanted was to get to the river as fast as possible.

“Well, thanks!” George called back, holding onto the horse as tightly as possible. “I’m doing it, Kay, I’m doing it!” He shouted loudly, almost letting himself go and relaxing himself as Denny easily took the lead. “I’m ridin’ a horse!” In the distance, the composer saw the river that Kay had been talking about - it wasn’t that far away. “C’mon, Denny, c’mon!” He shouted, figuring that it couldn’t be so bad after all.

“I forgot to tell you, Denny gets pretty excited when you make him run like that!” Kay yelled as George passed her, slightly concerned as she watched them bolt off. It wasn’t sensible for a beginner to be riding a horse at _that_ kind of speed. And after all, she had started the whole thing. But at the same time, his unadulterated excitement was both endearing and amusing to her.

“At this rate I could be a jockey!” George disregarded any notion of safety as he released both hands from the horse, being a showoff, as usual. He loved that combined feeling of absolute freedom and adrenaline from not holding onto Denny at all. “I win, Kay, I win!” Almost as if to contradict that statement, though, the horse let out a loud neigh and got up on its hind legs - throwing its rider.

“George!” As soon as Kay saw what happened, her expression of good-natured laughter turned into one of near horror. She honestly hoped that her boyfriend wasn’t hurt - especially considering that he was worried about that same thing happening earlier on. “George, are you all right?” The composer dismounted her horse as soon as she brought it to a stop, having realized that she couldn’t see him anywhere.

“Oh, my goodness, Kay…” She turned around at the sound of his voice. “I’m over here, in the bushes!” With that, the composer waved a hand, although he made no attempt to get up. Kay pushed past some shrubbery to find George lying on his back in a patch of mud.

“Are you hurt?” That was her first concern. He shook his head in response, although he did look pretty silly, with his riding clothes all muddied. “Well, you know what, Georgie? Serves you right.” As soon as Kay ascertained that he was okay, she folded her arms and returned to the earlier teasing persona that she had adopted. “I _told_ you, Denny gets overly excited.”

“It doesn’t… matter, now, does it?” It was the strangest thing, but George found himself overtaken by a fit of laughter. Maybe he ought to have been self-righteous about Kay’s comments, but he simply couldn’t stop laughing. “It really doesn’t matter.” With that, he sat up, not even minding the mud that hung on to his expensive clothes. “I… It’s all so ridiculous, it’s all so funny.” His brown gaze wandered to his girlfriend, who was still standing with her arms crossed, unable to make out his sudden change in mood.

“You’re not sore about being thrown off?” Kay repeated, trying to make sure that she wasn’t missing the point. “You sure you didn’t knock your head when you fell off the horse?” George’s laughter was undoubtedly contagious, though - and she couldn’t stop the giggles that she felt coming on as well.

“Can’t I… can’t I find something amusing without having my sanity questioned?” He couldn’t explain _what_ exactly was so funny to him - after all, the joke was on him. Or maybe the joke was Kay being completely and utterly confused. “Oh, Kay, I’m so glad you decided to drag me out here.” And there it was - an admission that she was right in the first place.

“You know, you really ought to rinse off. The mud’s gonna dry.” Kay held out a hand to George to help him up - she trusted him not to pull her down with him. She couldn’t quite believe that he had said that he was wrong so casually, but somehow, she realized that she didn’t quite care about being proven right any more. He was so attractive when he laughed like that, and Kay figured that their relationship ought to be more than just trying to prove each other right or wrong.

“What, in the river?” Well, there went his riding boots, too. “I don’t know… rather looks like a case of “out of the frying pan, into the fire” to me.” As George spoke, the grin stayed on his face, noticing Kay’s lack of reaction to his admission. He knew they were above such childish gimmicks, too. “All right, all right, I’ll do it.” He wasn’t a science whiz, but he figured that since the river ran pretty fast, it would wash off the mud from his clothes and wasn’t too dirty.

“It’s only waist-deep, don’t worry.” Kay knew he was also an excellent swimmer, though - as a matter of fact, he was remarkably athletic. He played tennis, golf, ran track and field, swam, boxed, and enjoyed archery as well. She had no idea how he had time to have so many talents - she only knew that she _loved_ everything about George. “Want me to hold your hand, considering how scared you were of Denny?”

“Denny’s all right. Now that I got him figured out, he’s fine.” The composer responded as he glanced at the brown horse, which was now standing quietly, as if nothing had happened. With that comment, George slowly waded into the water, which was shockingly cold for him. “You didn’t tell me it would be so _cold_!” He started complaining almost at once.

“Isn’t he just something?” Kay’s comment was directed at Denny as she started to stroke the horse on its neck, not acknowledging her boyfriend’s comment. He responded with a glare, but said no more about the temperature of the water as he tried his best to wash off his riding clothes. It was a difficult job, considering that George hadn’t brought along any extra clothes - and it was too cold for him to take his shirt off completely.

“I feel like I’m about to die of hypothermia.” He added pointedly after a few moments’ silence. Kay continued to ignore him, although there was an unmistakable smile on her face as she brushed Denny lovingly. “Kay? Come here for a ‘sec, will ya?” The change in George’s tone told her that he was past complaining about the cold water - maybe he had something of substance to say, after all.

“Yeah?” Kay had to try her best not to laugh as he nearly floundered when he stepped on a smooth rock in the river. “Careful, now. Fred said I had to bring you back intact, remember?” She couldn’t resist the chance to make a joke - which was met with a laugh from George as well.

“Why don’t you get into the river, too? I mean, just in case I need _rescuing_ or something of the sort.” He held out both hands to his girlfriend, who was standing right by the river bank. If he wished, he could’ve just pulled her in by the leg, but that wouldn’t do.

“Oh, no, George. Oh, no.” Kay shook her head as she started to giggle again. “I’m not stupid. It’s mid-September, and I’m in no mood to get into a river when we’re so far away from the ranch.” That was one thing she was assuredly _not_ going to budge on. “I love you, but no.” She couldn’t stop giggling at the expression on George’s face, though - he looked as if he’d been turned down on a marriage proposal. (Not that he’d propose marriage anyway.) “Do me a favor, though.”

“Anything.” George found himself having to look up at Kay - an anomaly for sure, since he was so much taller than her. She didn’t respond at once; instead, she laid down flat on her stomach right by the river bank, so that she was almost at eye-level with her boyfriend.

“Kiss me.” The two words were simple, as she leaned forward so that George could kiss her. Without any hesitation, he waded as close to Kay as possible without getting out of the river and pressed his lips against hers. It was a bit of a messy kiss, considering how water from the river was drizzled in their faces, but it was one that made her incredibly happy. George was an amazing kisser - obviously, he had honed that skill from experience with other girls, and again, she couldn’t help but think how much better he was than her husband. Oh, the boring banker could never compare to the man in front of her. Not in a million years.

George broke away first, and the smile on Kay’s face because of the kiss put a grin on his face as well. “Why the sudden urge?” He didn’t need a reason to kiss the love of his life, of course, but he was curious as to what prompted her to ask that all of a sudden. “Gosh, you’d think we’d wait until we got home and I was properly cleaned up.”

“I just… got the feeling. I like it when your lips are against mine.” Kay adored the sensation. The soft pressure of his warm lips against hers was a feeling better than heaven. “I don’t have to wait when I’m around with you, George.” That was a fact, actually. They had grown terribly accustomed to displaying their affection for each other in public, even in front of her husband.

“True. Kay, did the people at the conservatory ever say anything about falling in love with a guy from the streets of Brooklyn?” He made a reference to her musical background - she’d been trained in a conservatory, and had written at least one fugue a week. They couldn’t help thinking about how different their lives would be without each other. In all likelihood, Kay would probably be a boring housewife with two kids - and that would be _that_. And George would still be the biggest womanizer in town, but he wouldn’t have a purpose. For him, Kay was his purpose and motivation - and she was the music he heard.

“No, I don’t reckon they’d appreciate me being with a serial womanizer, though.” She said so jokingly - honestly, she couldn’t care less for what others thought about their relationship. “I can’t decide if I think you’re more attractive when you’re like this - all dirtied up, or when you’re in white tie and tails at the finest concert halls in New York.”

“I can’t decide if you’re more fun when you’re out here in the country, when we don’t have to pretend, or when you’re acting all prim and proper when we’re back in the city.” George responded, still smiling. “Conservatory lady.” He liked to call her that sometimes, when they were talking about composing music.

“You know why I really wanted you to kiss me, Tin Pan Alley man?” Kay couldn’t take her eyes off of his face. “Because every time we kiss, I’ve had to get up on my tiptoes, and I’ve been getting real tired of it.” That was the sole motivation for that kiss, and as soon as George heard that, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

“Oh, Kay…” With those words, he pressed forward so that he could kiss her again. Gosh - he loved her _so much_. She was so full of good humor and affection, and George felt as if they were honestly and truly fated to be together forever. The composer wished it would never change.

“Oh, George…” Kay murmured his name softly as she returned the kiss, closing her eyes. She didn’t want it to change, either. Not for the world. Not for anything at all.

 

* * *

 

“It’s _freezing_!” Ginger had forgotten how cold it could get in Connecticut - especially in the fall, and the dancer had neglected to pack some warm clothes. Despite the fact that she had changed into her wool pajamas and was sitting by the fireplace, she couldn’t stop shivering. “And I’m not saying that just so we can cuddle, Fred.” She added as the latter gave her a disbelieving glance. Silently, Ginger thought it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea - but she was really feeling chilly.

“Oh, sure, _sure_.” Fred grinned at his girlfriend, who looked almost comical in the way she was wrapped up with all those blankets. “Here, you can have my jacket, if that helps.” With that, he retrieved his dark brown tweed jacket and navigated around the couches by the fireplace. Another smile crossed his face as Ginger accepted the jacket from him with a pouty expression on her face (hey, the only thing he had done wrong that day was catch a chicken when she couldn’t!), and he sat down next to her on the wooden floor. “What are you sore at me for?”

“Well, you know-” Ginger began, almost as if she were about to rattle off a long list. “For being so attractive and not cuddling with me, for one.” She smiled playfully as she wrapped the jacket around herself. The dancer just couldn’t get enough physical contact with Fred - and she was glad that he wasn’t the kind to hold back on it, either. At least, not usually.

“I wonder where George and Kay are.” He commented all of a sudden. Sure, the two of them were known to spend hours upon _hours_ with each other, but it was pretty dark outside, and George assuredly did not know what he was doing with horses. “Well, I still trust Kay to bring him back in one piece.” As Fred spoke, he edged closer and closer to Ginger, until he finally wrapped both arms around her. At his touch, he could feel her relax completely - that was how he knew that she trusted him unconditionally. And vice versa.

“George and Kay can take care of themselves.” Ginger stated decisively, immeasurably happy as she rested her head against his shoulder. The cold didn’t matter to her any longer - as long as she was with her Fred, she was the most content girl in the world. “Say… what’s this?” She took her gaze off of her boyfriend momentarily to look at something she had found in the pocket of his jacket.

“That? Oh, uh, it’s.. nothing, it’s, uh-” Fred tried to grab the piece of paper from Ginger. It was already crumpled and folded several times over, but the discovery had piqued her interest and she held it just out of his reach. “It’s just… dance doodles.” He made a flimsy excuse as his cheeks started to redden with embarrassment already.

“Dance doodles? Let me see…” Ginger unfolded the paper, revealing some roughly-drawn sheet music and a few sentences on the top written in Fred’s distinctive neat hand. “For _my_ Ginge… can’t stop thinking about you, can’t stop loving you… I’ve got you on my mind and that’s the way I like it.” As she read it out loud, the smile on her face grew bigger and bigger. “Oh, Freddie! Is this song… is it dedicated to me?” The dancer turned to him, unable to contain the happiness in her voice.

“Uh, yeah.” Everyone knew that Fred had a hobby of composing songs, and George often ended up playing his pieces at rehearsal. “It’s… not done yet, though. I got stuck on a title. And the last few bars.” He quickly took the paper and stuffed it into his trousers pocket. “It is for you, though. I was planning to sing it to you on opening night.” The fact that he got so shy when talking about it only endeared him more to Ginger. She loved him both ways - when he was outspoken and teasing, and shy and completely adorable.

“Aw, you’re so sweet…” Ginger trailed off, unsure what to say. Instead, she just leaned forward and kissed him once again - she had figured a long time ago that sometimes, there was no need for words in situations like these. The kiss caught Fred unaware, but he couldn’t say that he was complaining.

“We’re back!” The two dancers broke away at the loud proclamation as the door was slammed open by George. “Hope you missed us." The first thing that Fred noticed about his best friend was how disheveled he looked, with the muddy riding clothes and mussed hair. Kay followed just after her boyfriend - and she looked equally dirtied up, too.

“Say, we were starting to get the idea that you’d both abandoned us out here!” Ginger exchanged a glance with Fred before getting to her feet to have a better look at the two. “What on earth were you guys doing anyway?” She was under the impression that they would return early so that they could all have dinner together, but then again, Ginger didn’t regret it. She appreciated the time spent alone with Fred.

“We went down to the river, and, uh, George fell into the mud, so he got into the river, and then we started trying to catch fish with our bare hands. We didn’t manage to bring any back, though.” Kay gave a quick summary of what had happened during their absence from the ranch as she held on to George by the arm, not bothered by his muddy clothes any more.

“You might have at least planned.” Fred cut in playfully, lifting himself up onto the couch. “I thought we were going to have a big dinner together, and stand around the piano while George played his compositions and we all sang out loud.”

“Aw, there’s always tomorrow.” Kay waved a hand as the two of them started to make their way upstairs to the bedroom that they were going to share. “Come on, now, George, we’ve got to clean each other off upstairs.” They had enjoyed themselves so much that day - perhaps more than she had done in several years. It was a wonderful feeling, being among friends, and the love of her life.

“See ya tomorrow, Fred. At least for once we won’t both be dead drunk in the morning.” George’s parting comments were met with a laugh from everyone involved, and then, the two composers were gone again.

“Now, where were we?” Ginger plopped herself down on the sofa right next to her boyfriend. “Oh, yeah, that’s right. We were kissing. And I was cold.” As she spoke, her gaze wandered to his lips, making no secret about what she wanted to keep doing. A small smile crossed Fred’s face as a rather appealing idea crossed his mind.

“Ginge, you ever heard of spooning?” He asked all of a sudden. “And if you haven’t, I’m going to teach you today.” Without waiting for a response from her, the dancer turned to lie on his side as he wrapped both arms around his girlfriend from behind.

“Oh, so this is-” Ginger broke off with a laugh as she adjusted her position so that her back was flat against his stomach. “So this is spooning, huh? I’ve done it before, but I didn’t know it was called that.” She liked the idea of it instantly, though - the way Fred was cuddling her made her feel warm, both on the inside, and outside. “It’s… nice.”

“Do you mind… if we slept out here tonight, Ginge?” All of a sudden, the idea of going all the way up to his bedroom did not appeal to Fred in the least.

“I don’t mind, really.” As if on cue, Ginger let out a loud yawn, showing that she was equally fatigued. Trying to shovel hay and chase chickens - all in the same day - was a lot for her. “...Good night, Freddie.”

“Good night, Ginge.” There was a moment’s silence between the two, before Fred added a sleepy afterthought. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


End file.
